


Power Play

by Anonymous



Series: Family Hijinks, as Usual [2]
Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Episode: s2e05 Tern Haven, F/M, Family, Hair-pulling, Nighttime, Sex, Sibling Incest, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: She goes hot, than cold. The timelines branch again. In one, she tells him to go fuck himself because she's had a lifetime's worth of listening to men boast about their sexual conquests and she's so. fucking. done with it. In the other, she lets him tell her because as long as he's talking about himself, he's not giving her that concerned look and asking how she's doing.And also, she has to admit, because the combination of crying, Valium, and Grey Goose has her horny as a teenager.





	Power Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arbitrarily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arbitrarily/gifts).

Shiv sits on Kendall's bed for a long time, not really thinking about anything. The Valium is like a cotton blanket around her brain. She knows it's dangerous to stop thinking, especially when there's so much going on, but she can risk it for one night.

Her phone beeps.

_Tom: Hey sweet thing, has someone kidnapped you? I will fight them! 👊👊_

_> No, I'm just taking a walk_

_Tom: I was thinking it might be nice to turn in soon, if that's ok with you_

She can't deal with Tom's insecure bullshit right now. She puts her phone on silent.

Everything is silent out here in the sticks. The house doesn't creak—they pretend it's rustic and vintage, but it was clearly built within the last 15 years. The staff have all gone to bed. Usually Shiv would watch a video or something, but the cotton blanket makes the silence bearable.

Finally she hears steps outside the window, and a door opening and closing, and more steps down the hall. She blinks, realizing she'd half dozed off, and tries to marshal her thoughts and remember why she thought going to talk to Kendall was a good idea in the first place.

From the fumbling of his hand on the doorknob, she can tell he's drunk even before he staggers in waving a vodka bottle like some fucking Bowery bum. He doesn't look surprised to see her in his room, just hands her the bottle and goes to hang up his coat. "There's a swig left in there, I think," he says. "Help yourself."

She wonders how he found booze. She sure isn't going to turn it down. "You found the party, huh," she says, upending the bottle. The mouth of it tastes like his mouth, and someone else's, and a whiff of what she's pretty sure is sex.

"I am the party," he says as though it's clever. He appears to be losing a fight against a coat hanger.

She rolls her eyes and chucks the bottle into the wastebasket, not as hard as she'd like to. "I don't even know why I came in here," she says.

"I don't either," Kendall says. He sits down next to her and picks at the duvet, staring intently at his hands. Drunk and stoned, and his stubble reeks of eau de muffdive. How does he do it out here in the middle of nowhere? Is Tabitha sleeping with both her brothers? Weirder things have happened.

She's pretty stoned too, she realizes, because she's watching his hands as intently as he is, and a long time has gone by of neither of them saying a word.

"Why _are_ you here?" he asks. "I don't mind, I mean, just, uh, what's up?"

Shiv stares at the branching pattern on the duvet and sees branching timelines. In one, she admits that the part of her that's still eight years old wanted to go to her big brother for a hug and some advice. In the other, she recognizes that her big brother is a predator and doesn't take the risk of looking like prey.

The Valium gave her the courage to come here, but now it's dulling her too much for a conversation where she'd need to be sharp. Door number two. Delay, then distract. "Everyone else is asleep," she says. "God, you stink of sex. Who's even here to have sex with?"

"Naomi." He looks closely at her. Her eyes must still be swollen from crying, because he frowns. "Hey, are you okay?"

Delay! Distract! "Naomi? Jesus. No wonder you're wasted." Shiv fumbles for another conversational caltrop. "Wasn't she Roman's contact?"

Kendall laughs. "I guess she was! He shoozed—snoozed, he losed. And lemme tell you, it is _really_ his loss."

She goes hot, than cold. The timelines branch again. In one, she tells him to go fuck himself because she's had a lifetime's worth of listening to men boast about their sexual conquests and she's so. fucking. done with it. In the other, she lets him tell her because as long as he's talking about himself, he's not giving her that concerned look and asking how she's doing.

And also, she has to admit, because the combination of crying, Valium, and Grey Goose has her horny as a teenager. She hates that crying does that to her, hates it, hates Tom for always being so fucking nice when she cries instead of nailing her up against a wall and giving all her pent-up emotions a different cathartic outlet. She tries so hard not to cry on him anymore, but after they all came in from the stupid fucking stargazing, she couldn't stop herself and sobbed into his shoulder, and he petted her hair and said soothing things until she snarled something about a walk and grabbed her coat and went looking for Kendall. Not because she wanted him to nail her up against a wall, obviously, or at least that wasn't what she was thinking at the time. But now that she's here, and he's here, and Naomi's pheromones are in her nose, and the Valium is holding door number two open for her and telling her that anything she does will be fine, just fine...

"Okay," she hears herself saying. "Sure. Tell me."

"Uh, what?" Kendall looks baffled.

"Tell me about fucking Naomi." Shiv lies back on the bed and starts undoing her belt. Anything she does will be fine. It's fine. "Go ahead."

He stares at her. "Are you... sure?"

"Sure." She has no filter now. "Tom probably won't want to touch me for a week because I fucked up the plan, so it's this or sitting in the bathroom watching porn on my iPad."

She can see that image go straight to his gonads. His pupils dilate and he ogles her like he's just realized what a sex goddess she is. "Jesus, Shiv," he mutters.

"What, you have a problem with me watching porn?"

"No, no, just, you're... you're really hot."

She stares at him. He stares back. He's paralyzed by her, like now she's the predator and he's prey. She can take what she wants from him, for maybe the first time in her life.

"Give me your hand," she says.

He looks at his hands. "I think I'd better wash up first," he says.

She smiles a little, thinking of Mom's thing about "washing up," and he smiles back. Something in the back of her mind reminds her that they have all this history because they're brother and sister, and for all that they constantly talk about getting fucked by one another, it's probably not a good idea to make it literal. On the other hand, it's been metaphorically true so many times and so many ways that literal doesn't seem like a big reach. 

She just wants to use him for a while, that's all. In their family, that's a totally normal thing for one of them to want. The weird part is that he's letting her.

He goes into the bathroom and she hears water running. This is when they should come to their senses. But he comes out, and he's still looking at her like she's a sex goddess, and she's still unzipping her pants. Good sense isn't really a Roy trait.

He crawls onto the bed and lies down on his side, reaching for her blouse like a teenage boy with his first girlfriend. "Can I," he asks hesitantly.

"No," she says, not hesitantly. He needs to understand that this isn't for him.

He looks flustered. "Okay."

It's clear he has no idea where to go from there, so she takes his hand. It's cool and still a little damp. She shoves it down into her underwear, where she's hot and also a little damp. It's not going to take much to rev her up. She remembers that time with Nate in the car, and it's easy to think this will be like that, simple and quick, a power move and an orgasm all in one.

He tries to finger her but she's not ready, shakes her head at him. He works his palm against her mound instead, not right over her clit but close enough.

She can hear herself breathing. It's too quiet here; the silence is too loud. "Tell me," she says. "About Naomi."

Kendall settles in next to her and finds a good rhythm. "So we uh, we got pretty drunk and did some coke, and we talked for a while—"

Shiv growls. "Tell me about _fucking_ Naomi."

"I'm getting there." He's getting confident now, and she responds more than she wants to, pushing her hips up and helping him find the sweet spot. "She's staying out in this little guest house all by herself. It's like a converted carriage house or something. The bed's huge, so we took off our clothes and just kind of rolled around in it. She's got these amazing little tits, little waist, strong thighs, looks like a, like a fucking gymnast."

He's so lascivious when he says it that Shiv wonders whether he knows that's just her type. She closes her eyes, imagining Naomi's small breasts and pink nipples and know-it-all smile.

Kendall tries that sly finger again. She wishes he wouldn't. It's distracting her from wondering whether Naomi waxes her pubes. Saying something about it would distract her too, so she decides to put up with it, but he pulls back anyway and goes back to rubbing her clit. He's more perceptive than she'd thought. Maybe there's actually a reason besides his bank account that he gets laid so much.

"She sat on my face for a bit," he says. Shiv actually starts salivating, and bites back a moan. "That was pretty hot. Grinding on me, really getting herself off on me. I thought she was going to smother me. Her pussy tastes amazing. I was sucking her clit and she was grabbing my hair, and she came all over my face." He leans in. "I bet you can still smell it on me."

"Oh yeah," she says. When he's talking, she mostly smells vodka, but when he stops, she sucks in a deep lungful of Naomi's smell on his face, and she can't help licking her lips, thinking of those strong thighs straddling her head.

He tangles his fingers in her hair and tugs. "She pulled it like this," he says.

Shiv almost laughs. She'd bet Naomi nearly scalped him. And she'll be damned if she'll let another man be gentle with her. Gentle is not what she needs. Ken of all people should know that. "Harder," she snaps.

She wonders if he's going to pull from the ends like an amateur, but he gets right up against the root, and when he pulls, the pain shoots an arrow straight down to her groin. She thrusts up, hungry for more, more pleasure, more pain, more more, and he pushes those questing fingers right up into her like he can read her mind.

Barely in time, she remembers that in this quiet house she has to be quiet too. She bites her arm before her moans can make whoever's in the next room wonder whether the house is haunted. Kendall fingers her just how she likes it, focused and intent and not too fast, and she fucks herself on his hand while waiting for him to tell her more. She's always needed words or sounds or something to get off. Otherwise she's alone in her head, and that's the least sexy place to be.

Finally she glares at him and he remembers he's supposed to be talking dirty to her. _Get it together, Kendall_, she thinks.

"First she got on top and rode my dick like a rocking horse," he says, and okay, that's good, that makes up for his little lapse. He's got her good and pinned between his hands now, push and pull. "With all the booze, I couldn't really keep it up for long, and I thought we were done. But then she told me she'd brought a strap-on in case she got a chance to hook up with Tabitha." Shiv whimpers. It's so easy to imagine Naomi's silicone cock in her instead of his fingers, Naomi's sly voice in her ear instead of Kendall's monotone. "So she got me kneeling on the bed with my face in the pillows, and she fucked my ass, hard and steady, just like this. She's a fucking wizard with that thing, I had no idea. I wasn't even touching myself and I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out."

He shivers next to her, undone by his own narration, and that moment of vulnerability flips Shiv into imagining herself in Naomi's position, fucking Kendall's face into a heap of feather pillows. Her eyes roll back and she groans into a mouthful of sleeve as her orgasm roars through her.

Slowly she comes back to herself. Ken lets go of her hair and slides his hand out of her underwear, carefully making space between them, carefully not making his obvious boner her problem. She's glad she doesn't have to tell him that he's not going to get to fuck her tonight.

She pauses on the word _tonight_ and then decides that's something to think about tomorrow, after the Valium and the hangover have worn off.

She sits up, shakes her hair out, fixes her clothes. Ken catches her eye and wipes his hand on his sweater, a tiny little power play, like he wants to pretend he's the one who used her. All at once she feels exhausted by how much attention she has to pay to everything. The slightest gesture, the smallest word, a pause, a look could mean her doom. Like she's a fawn in the woods listening for the hunters.

"Did you still want to talk about something?" he asks with his fucking patented Kendall Roy smirk, like he actually thinks he's special because he made her come.

Any thought of asking him for advice has long since fled. She's all fucked out, it's 2 a.m., and she just wants to go curl up against Tom and go to sleep. "What's there to talk about?" she says.

He nods, looking a little bit like he pities her. If she weren't so tired she'd want to punch his smug face in.

"Goodnight," she says, and she gets the hell out while she still has any afterglow left.


End file.
